they were really into sax back then –
big mouthfuls of it –
no strings –
the dream was to coast about, recklessly
finding favour in back alleyways
fingers up and down
as loose coins in the pocket – jingle rhythmic
pitched high to the sway –
but notes fall like people do
and music gets in deep as a low C – sustained
all practiced hands are quick to find
that frantic riffs give out to calm –
all alleys lead to open doors
and love – like death – moves in
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